


Seasonal

by callmeflo



Series: Gang Patches [5]
Category: Those Who Went Missing
Genre: Gen, shifting seasons event
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:29:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26794417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmeflo/pseuds/callmeflo
Summary: She uses her long, curly tail to sweep the oak leaves off the tiles.
Series: Gang Patches [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1556458





	Seasonal

The dawn of a brisk October morning begins its approach, tinting the sky with paler blues and then splashes of purple, orange, pink, and the stars gradually fade behind candy floss clouds. Lyra watches it all with dark eyes that reflect the pastel hues, her paws crossed and chin resting upon them. She has the perfect viewpoint; in a low hanging branch in the old oak tree above her shrine, where the bark has been smoothed by her using it so often.

It’s an even better view than normal today, too. Autumn is creeping its way into the city park and the foliage is no longer monochrome green. Reds and yellows and browns are spreading like a beautiful wildfire across the canopy, and, one by one, the leaves are just starting to detach from their branches. A patch has already fallen from a branch above Lyra’s perch to create a handy skylight for her pleasure.

Below, the ground is being carpeted in the debris, and as she watches, a crinkled, mottled orange leaf drifts a winding path, meandering and somersaulting, to land upon the tiled roof of the little shrine.

She rises, stretching her paws out like a cat, butt in the air and eyes scrunching almost shut.

“Pearl,” she says, the telepathy quiet among the rustling leaves. “Pearl, c’mon, things to do, places to go!”

Further up her branch, where the wood is thicker and sturdier, a snuffling pink nose emerges from a handmade cocoon of twigs. Two black eyes blink half open and look back at her, utterly unenthusiastic. Pearl may be a spirit, a manifestation of Lyra’s want for a guardian, but she’s still opossum enough that the cold months make her slow and lazy. 

“Please, Pearl, I can't get down,” she blatantly lies, eyes widening pitifully as she shuffles her paws. 

The opossum familiar sighs and then releases an almighty yawn that shows off her pointy teeth. She heaves herself out of her nest and waits as Lyra leaps forward and scrambles onto her shoulders, nose tucked into the pansies that grow there. Like Lyra’s own nature feature, they are stubbornly still in bloom but appear just slightly withered, as if cringing from the chilly air.

Pearl half-tumbles her way down the rough trunk, little pink fingers feeling carefully for footholds. Her hairless tail sways for balance as they jump down the last foot or so, and then she curls up in the grass and detritus right where she landed.

“I guess everyone else is out adventuring,” she ponders, as she glances around at the still clearing and listens to uninterrupted birdsong. If even one other member of the gang were about, there’d be an unmissable ruckus or chattering conversation.

Lyra shrugs off the spark of loneliness and turns to the small shrine. It’s well cared for, of course, as the centre of her boundary, and houses many treasures: a collection of crystals and shells, beloved rewards given to them by Mother Nature herself, and her mementos from her adventures.

She gets to work, clambering upon the roof and using her long, curly tail to sweep the oak leaves off the tiles, only almost slipping on the dew once. Next she goes inside, picking brave snails off the walls and placing them gently back outside, and smoothing the surfaces of the crystals until they shine. The stone steps get a similar sweeping but also a quick plucking of the moss that is suddenly growing too zealously.

Finally, Lyra wanders back to Pearl’s side and snuggles up to her warm fur. The shifting seasons are wonderful. She loves to watch the wildlife preparing for winter, the flowers withering after releasing their seeds, the greenery turning to sunset colours. She doesn’t mind cleaning up the fallen leaves or sharing her oak with a squirrel or two, and even though Pearl is reluctant to get out of bed, she has her friends who are always willing to go on expeditions in the snow with her.

**Author's Note:**

> shifting seasons event: environmental changes
> 
> Base Score: 13 AP (Writing: 666 words)  
> +1 AP (Small Familiar/Swarm: 1 AP * 1)  
> +5 AP (Personal Work Bonus)  
> +5 AP (Event Bonus)  
> Total AP per submission: 24
> 
> Base Score: 6 GP (Writing: 666 words)  
> +1 GP (Small Familiar/Swarm: 1 GP * 1)  
> +2 GP (Event Bonus)  
> Total GP per submission: 9


End file.
